


Timber

by xwhisperbeauty



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mayhem, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-25 10:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14376978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xwhisperbeauty/pseuds/xwhisperbeauty
Summary: An unlikely Vegeta and Bulma get together that spans over the infamous three years. How did it really happen? Slow burn. Harsh language, sexual situations and tons of mayhem.





	1. The Wrong Foot

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I started writing this story originally on FF, but I think I will remove it from over there and keep it strictly here due to the rating. Vegebul is new for me, so bare with me as I get into a good groove between the two. This is essentially how I figured the two characters got together. Comments/reviews are welcome. Thank you everyone and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Please Note: I don't own anything, rights to their respective owners, yadda yadda.

 

* * *

 

"Oh fuck off!"

Her voice reverberated over the expanse of the lab causing the flame haired warrior to cast her a harsh glare, one that normally would have stoked fear into the hearts of his enemies. Instead, the woman acted as though he suddenly didn't exist, returning to typing on her computer screen in front of her as though he hadn't spoken. He balled his fists, the force of which caused his arms to shake slightly in frustration _. How dare she_.

" _Woman_." He warned.

He was met with a deep sigh when Bulma turned to address him fully, her obnoxious hairdo causing the sayain's eye to twitch at the ridiculousness of it all. She was an idiot and clearly wanted to die. Her face bared an annoyed look, one that only infuriated him more. He needed to train and the gravity room was broken. It was her job to fix it. She knew, of course, that this was how his seemingly simple and straight forward mind worked. Bulma took a moment to look over him, as though seeing if he had reinjured himself before snorting at his aggravated look and turning to view her computer again.

"Fix it at once!" The Prince bristled at her obvious brush off.

" I have other things to do today Vegeta," She snarled not bothering to look back at him, "I am not your slave! Go train outside until me or my dad can get to it! If you went easier it wouldn't be broken right now! How many times do we have to have this conversation before you get it?!"

 _Selfish prick_ , she finished to herself, more bitter than anything that he had disregarded her warning these last few weeks and had returned to training so soon after injuring himself. Inwardly, she was so mentally frustrated with his lack of regard for her. She had gone out on a limb to ensure he had everything he needed to train, despite his harsh exterior, and his lack of appreciation was starting to grind her gears. She typed on her keys more harshly then necessary, causing the screen to ping.

"You want to die at the hands of the androids you foolish woman?!" He barked in anger, his arm swinging in front of him in a threatening manner, "I am the Prince-"

"- of all Saiyan's and demand I do your bidding, blah blah BLAH," She cut him off frowning into her screen, back still turned to him.

He ground his teeth with fists still clenched, "Bitch!"

Bulma chuckled at such a childish response, " Yeah yeah-"

She was cut off by the sharp shrill of her phone, causing her to suddenly raise a hand to him, finger pointed to hold the conversation. Vegeta scoffed and turned swiftly, stomping out of the lab with a sharp slam of the door. Going to her father, she knew. She frowned toward the closed door, pressing the button of her cell to receive the call. It was Yamcha.. again. He had called her three times today already and since all three calls had been blatantly ignored by her, she thought it was time to address the _situation_ of their relationship. Her stomach dropped at the implication.

"Hello?"

"Bulma," He sounded relieved," You haven't returned any of my calls.."

He sounded defeated, she noted, and she couldn't blame him. Since the explosion of the gravity chamber Bulma had blatantly ignored him. She was frustrated and confused and was certain that Yamcha was too. Considering they had been doing good up until that fateful day weeks ago, he probably was plagued with questions – none of them she particularly wanted to answer. She couldn't help it. Vegeta had run rapidly in her thoughts for the last several weeks even though he'd been scarce. He carefully avoided her the last few weeks up until truly needing her, including strategically arranging his meals around times he knew she would be in the lab. She had no idea if it had been shame of his condition during the explosion or just clear annoyance of her forceful personality that repelled him these past few weeks but it did little to deter her own gravitational tug. She.. _cared_ for him. A frightening revelation that seemed to throw everything asunder.

"Bulma?" Yamcha voice slammed into her thoughts.

"..yeah, " her voice came out soft then grew stronger, "I am.. just tired. It's been a crazy time fixing and working in the lab. Sorry Yamcha."

"Its okay, babe, " He seemed to have bought such a lame excuse, "Want me to come over? .. I haven't seen you.."

This time Bulma felt defeated. Its not like she was truly doing anything anyway. She had been .. avoiding the situation long enough. The memory of her previous conversation with Vegeta forced her decision despite it not being what she wanted. _Get it together, Briefs!_

"Sure, " Her voice spoke softly.

"Great!" Yamcha's voice breathed too excitedly, "I'll be right over!"

The phone call ended before Bulma could even muster a reply. Turning her attention toward the clock, she realized it was going to be a long and awkward night.

* * *

" _Yes! Oh! "_

What had started as a calm conversation about what they had both done the past few weeks had ended in a rush of hormonal explosion. She was riding Yamcha furiously in her living room, hands grasped behind his neck as she gasped with pleasure. It had been weeks since she had gotten such a rush of adrenaline that only this carnal act could provide, and she was chasing it with wild abandon. It felt wrong, but the pleasure mounting in the pit of her stomach forced her to the finish line. Yamcha's hands splayed across her slender hips, encouraging her motion with ease with a flushed face, his lips parted as he admired her shameless behavior. Her parents were away that evening, she had told him, and they were making full use of it. Despite the power level that pricked the back of his neck that hovered in the gravity simulator just outside, he was enjoying every minute of the lithe form taking him for everything that he had. He was slightly paranoid of the immense power that was a constant reminder of his lack of worth in the grand scheme of the upcoming androids, but ultimately, he decided _he_ was the true winner here while he admired the blue beauty.

_He's just an asshole anyway._

He shoved all thoughts to the side and wrapped his arms around the waist of the beautiful heiress as she reached her climax, shuttering and moaning with an arched back. She was here with him, in the flesh and loving him with her body. There was no room to think of megalomaniac murderers in these moments. He took over for her, quickening her pace so he could join her in bliss shortly after, moaning her name into the empty room. Little did he know their thoughts seemed rather in sync.

When her eyes finally opened to reveal the lap she was sitting on, Bulma instantly felt ashamed and embarrassed. Had they really just had sex in her parent's living room?! When had they suddenly let things get so out of hand? It had been a lonely few weeks, she supposed and now she was instantly regretful. Strong arms had held and encouraged her, blood pumping with desire and passion but she knew within her heart that her mind was not thinking of the scarred bandit. He was breathing heavily, head tipped back recovering from the rush not noticing of her glance to the window. She jolted slightly when she realized the chamber had been powered down and her alien house guest was more than likely lurking around. Yamcha looked up to her then, feeling her movement and catching where her eyes lingered.

"Who cares, B?" He spoke so easily, without a care in the world, "I'm sure he sensed us anyway."

Bulma panicked slightly, " What?! Gross! "

Yamcha chuckled, "Your power level spikes."

She looked at him quizzically until she realized what he was implying. She gasped and felt even more ashamed, even though this was technically her boyfriend and she had obviously done nothing wrong. In her own home she was to be expected to do such things.. and they had, in the past, but she had not thought of her houseguest back then. Her shoulders slumped then, causing Yamcha to frown. This did little to ease either of their confusion.

"Do you honestly care what that asshole thinks?" He asked annoyed.

Her temper flared and she slowly rose from him, redressing herself as she turned to him angrily, surprising Yamcha a bit by her outburst. He recovered quickly and redressed as well, tucking himself away to slowly stand, readying himself for an argument. She had never cared before! Suddenly he had to tip toe around Prince asshat and it was infuriating him.

"He is a guest in my home Yamcha, of course I give a shit!"

"Guest? More like a slave driver! " Yamcha screamed back, obviously letting out aggression and frustration that he had been harboring for weeks, "He treats you like shit and you don't even care! You've been working for weeks! I want my girlfriend back! "

Bulma's temper was beyond control, " He is helping us with the androids! Of course, I am going to help him! He's one of our best chances against them! Don't be an idiot! And what have you been doing these last few weeks? Training? Going to the bar? Just fuck off Yamcha! "

Yamcha was stunned slightly into silence momentarily, making Bulma feel triumphant. Little did she know, such a pause was really for the dark figure that lurked by. She stalked from the living room then, slamming the kitchen light on to be able to see and startled when she came face to face with the saiyan prince. He was leaning against the counter top, bowl of leftovers in hand - prepared by her mother earlier that evening - eating meticulously and quietly. He seemed unaffected by her presence, almost as though she hadn't even entered the room. Crimson blossomed up her chest to her face, heating her drastically. How long had he been standing there? She was too terrified to even ask. She parted her lips to speak to only have Yamcha barge in after her, realizing too that he had been present probably during a majority of their promiscuous activity.

"What kind of pervert are you?!" Yamcha suddenly demanded in Vegeta's face, "Were you listening in on us?"

Vegeta remained unmoved and silent, continually moving spoonfuls of fried rice into his mouth. Bulma blanched slightly at the behavior, eerily feeling as though something terrible was about to take place. Yamcha was not taking Vegeta's silence well and was getting angrier by the second, throwing insults and cursing the saiyan as he enjoyed his meal. The way Vegeta disregarded the other man's presence was unnerving. This entire month was going to shit. Bulma had had enough.

"Get out!" She suddenly barked at Yamcha seemingly tired of it all, " Just GET OUT, Yamcha!"

The bandit froze in his spot to turn to her, "Are you out of your mind, B?"

"No, but currently you are," Bulma bristled, " ust go home, we'll talk tomorrow."

Yamcha just looked at her in disbelief, "Are you serious?"

"Yamcha, please! Just go already!"

He frowned, seemingly annoyed, but turned to leave, stopping to place a kiss to the blue haired beauty's hairline before exiting the room and seemingly out of the compound. The silence in the kitchen was stifling. The flame haired prince seemed entirely unaffected, finishing off his fried rice in turn to eat left over dumplings as he pulled them out of the fridge. Bulma watched him with a sense of unease, her eyes following him as he went about the motions. She parted her lips to speak but then closed them, seemingly without words to redeem herself. Her shoulders slumped, and she felt.. utterly exhausted. The emotional wreckage inside of her was seemingly heavy. Instead of entering conversation, she sighed heavily, turning to leave the kitchen. She approached the door frame and just as she was about to pass through, his voice cracked the silence causing her pause.

" You are above him, " His cool toned voice washed over her, "He's as skillful a man as he is a warrior."

The words stunned them both. It was obvious Vegeta had not meant to speak them, it had just come up in a bubble he could not suppress. Silence hung in the air, making her blush as her hand reached out to brace herself against the door frame. So he _had_ heard them and apparently now he was insulting the performance. She was left speechless, her fingers digging in to the wood frame. How.. _humiliating_.

" _Pathetic_ ," Vegeta finished, lips curled in snarled disgust, his voice revealing far more emotion than either expected. He was apparently full of surprises this evening.

Her cheeks burned. Wait.. was he _jealous_? Or just.. disgusted? She turned her head to find she was now alone.. confused more than ever.


	2. Power Over Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some Vegeta denial. ;3

 

_Humans are disgusting._

He could feel her ki still lingering in the kitchen even after he had found himself back in his private suite, sitting on the bed's edge with a hand on his face in frustration. He snarled inwardly at his own idiotic behavior and was ashamed to have said some unnecessary things tonight while present with the woman. Her scent of arousal had permitted the air so strongly upon his arrival into the homestead that it obviously had caused him far more of a primal reaction than he had anticipated – or at least that is what he was going to choose to believe.  _Never_  would he have said such things if he was within sound mind and body. Lowering his hand, his fists tightened upon instinct, feeling the woman now finally entering her room to retire for the evening. Always on the defensive and unnecessarily paranoid, he knew such words would do something to the earth woman. These creatures were  _so_  emotionally charged, and he knew there was going to be consequences.

Their rutting earlier had set him on edge for some reason and he was unsure why such a thing was of  _any_  interest to him. Not only had he felt such acts before between the two morons, he had even almost walked in on their grotesque acts of pleasure all over the compound. It had not taken him long to obviously understand the implication between the two humans; that they were within some sort of earthling courtship. It confused him though, since the woman's scent was not the only female he could smell on the weakling. It shocked him that the blue haired heiress would continue to participate in such acts knowing the scar face was obviously enjoying the flesh of more than one woman. Did they not frown upon such a thing on this planet? The woman's behavior  _had_  been strange since the explosion of her gravity simulator, and the scar face being suddenly absent had led him to believe that she had finally grew a pair of what these earthlings called "balls" and had moved on. He had assumed anyway, as her affection and sudden interest in the Saiyan Prince had significantly increased… until tonight that is..

_Fuck, who cares._

Wasting no further time dwelling, the prince proceeded to undress and gather beneath the sheets for the night, set on erasing all memories of this evening before his eyes closed. He had training to do tomorrow – everything else was insignificant.

_Including her.  
_

* * *

"Good morning honey!"

Her mother chirped upon her entrance into the kitchen for breakfast, spatula in hand already elbow deep in stacks of pancakes and piles of egg like some housewife you'd see on television. Bulma came to a halt at the flame haired warrior already seated at the table enjoying a fair share of what her mother had prepared for this morning's menu. She examined him for a moment, still confused by his words and demeanor last night and walked forward to seat herself at the table across from him. His eyes never left his plate, hand shoveling his food upon a fork directly into his mouth, obviously fueling himself for the day's training ahead. Not a word, not a twitch to his face, nothing. Honestly, what was she expecting? She rolled her eyes and then cast them aside to finally respond to her mother's greeting.

"Morning mom, " she spoke watching as her mother was already starting to fix her a plate, " Just some toast and coffee mama, I didn't get much sleep and I need to head to the lab first thing this morning."

"Oh my! " The blonde tittered," That's no way to prepare for a big day at the office!"

Her mother set the plate in front of her anyway, ignoring her daughter's plea for a lighter sampling. Bulma snorted, taking the cup of steaming coffee from her mother's hand once offered, bringing it immediately to her lips. The black brew was soothing to her nerves this am and seemed to put her a bit more at ease. She held onto the cup's base with both hands, staring down into the murky depths of its surface, the steam billowing out with the wonderful aroma she loved so much. Another day and she still felt just as miserable as the day before. The pit of her stomach still felt heavy, her emotions were still a complete mess and it was obvious whatever satisfaction she was chasing last night clearly had dissipated. It wasn't what she  _really_ wanted. She sighed deeply glancing upward to Vegeta, his concentration still resting upon the mechanics of feeding himself, her brow furrowing in disappointment.

 _Come on briefs, like he gives a shit_ , she mentally scolded herself,  _this is Vegeta we're talking about_.

She cast her eyes back down to her coffee and then stood from the table, " Thanks mom, I'm going to take it on the go."

She noticed Vegeta look up for the first time since her arrival, sparing her a brief glance before returning to the new pile of eggs her mother had brought him.  _Interesting_. With hands reaching out to pick up her breakfast she decided to suddenly forego retrieving them for now and allowed her right hand to rest upon the prince's left. No warning, just for fun – an  _experiment_  if you will. She gave it a brief squeeze and removed it, causing the man's spine to go rigid, halting the fork halfway to his mouth, eyes raising to glare at her. Bulma just winked, hands moving to their original task, her pink tongue sliding out to swipe her lips subconsciously, the bitter taste of coffee still upon them. She didn't miss the way Vegeta's gaze dropped to them, regardless of how brief and slight the motion was, causing her to smirk.  _Oh ho_ , she triumphed inwardly as his gaze moved back upward to meet her knowing gaze. He winced slightly, a tinted hue spreading adorably to his cheeks as he immediately went back to finishing his meal as though nothing had happened.

So he was still a man after all.

* * *

She was within the confines of the lab, engrossed in calculations for an updated ship like the properties of Goku's when the slam of her door startled her to jump out of her chair.

"  _WOMAN_!"

She spun around in shock, hand pressed to her chest, heart seemingly beating out of her chest. The smirk that greeted her upon the prince's face infuriated her. He obviously got some sort of sick twisted pleasure out of terrifying others, especially herself. She sighed deeply and allowed her hand to drop from her chest to perch upon her right hip.

" One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack, " She said with a huff, " What will you do without my genius to fix your toys for you?"

"Tch, " the dark prince snorted, " There's always the old man."

"What do you want?! " She snarled, obviously displeased with how quickly he disregarded her.. again, " I already fixed the panel, Vegeta, don't tell me you broke something  _already_?! "

Vegeta crossed his arms in his signature pose, "The pathetic weakling is upstairs and demands to see you. I came to retrieve you so I could be rid of his presence. His stench is ruining my meal. Your dingbat mother told me that his death was not an option."

She looked at him confused then turned her head to observe the clock above his head. 6 pm already? Had time gone that quickly? Wait.. a second,  _what_?

"Stench?" She suddenly asked, her face screwed up in confusion, "What stench?"

Vegeta frowned and slowly uncrossed his arms, " Don't be an idiot. The stench of those other females."

He said it so matter of factly that Bulma could do nothing but stare at him. Other.. females? It was then that she recalled Goku's own sensitive smell, how through their childhood he had complained about several instances that she just couldn't smell herself - including her own scent, one that Goku told her on many occasions were individual to each person. Saiyans obviously had far greater senses than that of humans. When she realized the implications by his words, she blanched. She grasped for the edge of her desk, leaning her bottom slightly against it to catch her breath. Vegeta had just confirmed what she had thought all along... and though she had believed she would be relieved to finally know the truth, she just felt.. devastated. She raised her gaze to Vegeta to find him staring at her, seemingly uncomfortable with her reaction.

"What's wrong with you?" He demanded with a tone that was annoyed.. yet oddly concerned.

She startled slightly at his aggressiveness of the question, ".. N-nothing. I'll be right up."

The prince only lingered for a bit, examining her slightly before nodding and disappearing without another word. Her shoulders slumped, her arms crossing protectively in front of her as she wallowed for a moment. So it was true then. For the last several months she had noticed a difference in Yamcha's behavior. Despite his sudden obsession of her these last few weeks, he had always had far more interest in the other women around him. This just confirmed it. Vegeta was harsh, cold and vindictive but a liar he certainly was not. The man was as direct as they come. It was time to end this empty relationship that she had desperately clung onto the last few years. Yamcha was all that she knew, but it was obvious that she certainly was not. The harsh reality of suddenly being alone was difficult but necessary. Was this the feeling in the pit of her stomach?

Was it  _really_  time to move on?

* * *

"You look like shit."

She almost laughed out loud at the blatant statement, but just trudged past the dark prince as though he hadn't spoken. A week had passed since her inevitable break up from Yamcha and she was still wallowing. Her upkeep these fast few days had declined and she knew she probably looked like a drowned rat. Her hair was now limp, desperately needing change, while her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. Her form, having been a bit plump, was already much slimmer than it had been. Today was probably the first day she was contemplating having more than just a glass of orange juice for the day. Vegeta, who she hadn't seen within that entire timeframe since she had spent the whole time buried within the comfort of her bedroom, obviously could tell she had been sulking. By the look on his face, he was obviously disgusted by her appearance.

She hurriedly gathered a slice of toast and another glass of orange juice and retreated as quickly as possible, not wanting to linger any more in front of the flame haired man. She was embarrassed and ashamed by how much her lack of a relationship had really affected her. Her once elevated level of confidence had dwindled down to a flat tundra of insecurity. Once in her room she quickly removed her robe, leaving her in nothing but her silk night gown and instantly buried herself under the covers, breakfast forgotten. She closed her eyes, desperately refusing to allow her frustrated tears to spill over at her ridiculousness the last week. What had happened to the fiery woman she once was? Why was this  _bothering_  her so much?

She didn't even have another second to berate herself mentally before the covers were pulled harshly from her body, leaving the cool morning air to exposed legs and arms. She jolted into a sitting position, screeching slightly at the sudden intrusion and came face to face with the dark prince's deep brow. He looked  _pissed_.

"Enough of this bullshit, woman! " Vegeta gnashed his teeth, " The gravity simulator is in desperate need of upgrades and your pathetic emotional wallowing has held me back several days already!"

Bulma looked at him shocked then burst into anger, " Fuck you, Vegeta! Not everything is about you and your training!"

"If you want to live when the androids arrive, it  _is_ about me, " He countered, still pulling the covers from her pathetic attempts to cover herself back up and escape the outside world, " I demand that you quit this pathetic emotional antics and get to work at once! The old man is busy with some other stupid contraption and told me you were the only one that could do these repairs!"

Bulma screamed in frustration and then stood on her bed looking down at him, fists clenched furiously while she bellowed, " NO!"

Vegeta was suddenly taken back by her outburst, his hands slacking slightly on their grip of the covers she used as a barrier from the reality she refused to acknowledge. He was astounded by how this woman could go from a sniveling train wreck to a fiery and unforgiving adversary in such a short span of time. He hated to admit it, but he was aroused. This woman was doing things to him that he didn't fully understand. Taking advantage of his startled state, Bulma grasped the covers back and laid back down, covering herself. She was so ashamed, embarrassed and furthermore enraged by the selfish demands of this man.. of all the men apparently in her life. Her shoulders shook with fury but then died down into a quiver of sobs. She broke down, releasing a stubborn array of tears that came without her consent. She was not normally this weak, but  _damn it_ , she could not help it.

The frustrated prince ran a hand through his upswept hair in uncomfortable silence. He could hear her crying and it was placing him in a situation that sounded off alarm bells within his mind and body. He shouldn't be here and he shouldn't be doing this, but  _damn it_  he wanted those upgrades and the foolish old man had strictly told him that such improvements would be Bulma's dealing, and hers alone. He knew something had significantly changed between her and scar face. The argument that had occurred last week was one that even  _he_  had found himself suddenly uncomfortable in. The rage he had witnessed from the woman had been one that even he had never the pleasure of receiving. Apparently, the blue haired heiress had not known of the weakling's transgressions (humans apparently lacked his superior sense of smell) as he was lead to believe and it had ultimately cost the scarred warrior whatever courtship he had with the woman. It was a display that had ruined the entirety of dinner, the two humans making a scene in the middle of the kitchen without a care in the world of who was around them. Though aggravated at the disturbance, he had looked on with a sick sense of glee as the weakling cowered before the heiress.

 _Good riddance_ , he thought as his mind wondered back to the moment where he was pleased to see the man leave, vowing to not return as she had requested.

Her sobs invaded his thoughts and he sighed. What the  _fuck_ was he going to do now?

"Bulma, " Her name was uncomfortable on his lips, rarely spoken or used by him but he felt the moment warranted it. Her arms lowered the covers suddenly to look at him confused, obviously taken back by the sudden use of her name. It had obviously had the chosen effect.

" He is  _nothing_ , " He found himself spewing with a softness that he didn't even know he possessed, " Why do you mourn the loss of someone that was not even worthy of you in the first place?"

His eyebrows shot up as the words dropped from his mouth, a rarity of comfort that the seasoned warrior never gave to  _anyone_. The shock on Bulma's face only confirmed that he had said too much and he abruptly turned to exit. He was fleeing, an action that seemed automatic to uncomfortable situations that he refused to further participate.

"Wait!" Her soft voice rang out but he ignored it. This was pathetic –  _he_  was pathetic. The only thing that mattered to him was the power that he knew was waiting for him, the blistering tickle in the back of his mind that he knew he had to reach,  _could_ reach… Nothing mattered more to him.  _Nothing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. ^^


	3. New Acquaintances

Two months.

That was how long Vegeta had seemingly gone out of his way to avoid her. The man had gotten incredibly good at knowing her schedule and bending her mother's attention to his will to literally never cross paths with her. In the mornings, she _just_  missed him – the evenings he'd train late and have dinner right at the time that Bulma's eyes drooped into slumber. The man was set on never speaking to her again apparently. She sighed, tapping her pen idly against her desk as she pondered the last few weeks. She had spent nearly her entire time helping her father with his new inventions for the upcoming science convention and it seemed Vegeta had been going gentler on the simulator to ensure the only times he'd need help would be the moments her father could say yes. It was so absurd. This clear avoidance was obviously a mixture of embarrassment and stubborn pride.

"There you are dear," Her father poked his head into her office, right hand coming up to adjust his glasses, " Could you come with me?"

Bulma dropped her pen and met her father's gaze, " Of course. What's up dad?"

She joined him in the hallway to head down toward his own office, a larger space that attached to one of the smaller labs within the compound. He continued without a hitch, his arms crossing sloppily as he spoke, left hand rubbing his mustache.

"We have a new lab assistant starting today, " He told her, " I need you to show him around. Let him know how we do things here."

The way he spoke the last part pricked her ears, knowing that her father wanted her to give him the confidentiality spiel that involved their own alien house guest. The way he carried himself around, flying, shooting stuff and lifting things hundreds of times his weight always lead to such conversations with their employees. It usually took them a good three weeks to get used to the way the harsh Saiyan carried himself around the lab, essentially tearing through it like a hurricane depending on his mood that week. Usually these conversations always went better when Bulma handled it.

Bulma chuckled, arms coming upward to stretch behind her head, "Sure."

Once they entered his office, the young man seated at the desk turned to look back at them as they entered, catching Bulma slightly off guard. He was attractive, and not just slightly attractive, the guy was incredibly  _hot_. He stood to shook her father's hand again, obviously trying to keep himself in good respectful standing with the man. His eyes shifted to Bulma's, the man's pristine smile widening. He outstretched his hand, confidence oozing off of him. She was slightly taken back.

"You must be Bulma, " His voice steady and strong, seeming to wave over her in almost a silk texture, "I'm Christian."

To say Bulma's insides were quivering was an understatement, " H-hi, Christian. Nice to meet you."

She took his handshake and felt the warmth that radiated from him. If she was going to be working this with guy, she could totally get used to it. They exchanged a smooth smile. Bulma felt her day was suddenly looking up.

* * *

" WOMAN!"

She winced, lowering her test tubes and casting a glance to Christian, who went rigid with realization. This would be the first occasion the man would witness what they spoke about, and by the tone in Vegeta's voice, it was going to be a doozy. She sighed, placing the tubes back into their holders before the prince erupted into the room, door swinging backward with a smack. She turned slightly to observe the prince to find him looking at her quizzically. His brow was creased in annoyance and curiosity. Bulma didn't care, however.

" What do you want?!" She couldn't hide the bite in her tone.

"What the hell did you do to your hair?" He demanded.

Bulma jolted slightly, then recalled that this was the first time Vegeta had seen in her weeks, so he had not seen her finally retire the untamed perm for a more reserved look. Her hair, after being removed from said perm, was sliding down the length of her shoulders nearly to the middle of her back. It was slightly curly, and thick. The Saiyan almost seemed fascinated by it.

"Is that a subtle way of saying you like my fresh look? " She smirked, arms crossing as she faced him fully, " What did you break?"

Vegeta's back went straight when his gaze suddenly turned to observe the new man in the room, (one he clearly didn't notice at first which seemed to unnerve him), " Who the fuck are you?!"

"Vegeta! " Bulma fumed, " I would appreciate it if you wouldn't talk to our employees this way! This is Christian and he's my assistant!"

Vegeta eyed the man with disdain and snorted, disregarding the man without a second thought, " Your idiot mother failed to prepare my meal before she left with the old man. I need sustenance this instant!"

Bulma parted her lips to respond to be cut off by Christian, to her shock.

" Do you have to refer to the owners in such a way? Its demeaning."

Bulma blanched at his words, immediately bracing herself for Vegeta's reaction, which immediately came without hesitation. Christian realized his mistake and looked pale. The heiress felt for him. He was new, and it was difficult to hold back such commentary. Vegeta's mannerisms were not easy to ignore. They had just discussed such a thing no longer than twenty minutes ago. Christian knew he had made a mistake and it was undeniable how much Vegeta intimidated him.

"Who the hell said you could speak to me?" The flame hair warrior bellowed, taking a threatening step toward the man causing Christian to shrink back slightly, " You want to come closer and say that to me again,  _human_?"

Before he could advance he felt Bulma's hands upon his chest causing him to freeze and lock eyes with her. The touch was completely unexpected and rendered him speechless.

"Enough Vegeta, " She tried to placate him, " Let's take this into the hall, ok? We can figure out dinner. Let's go."

His fist, which he has just realized was raised, lowered. She slowly backed away and headed into the hallway, waiting for him to follow. He did so without hesitation casting one last glare toward the assistant causing the man to take a flinched step backward. Once in the hallway Bulma wasted no time closing the door and spinning on the man.

" What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Vegeta rose to the challenge instantly, " What's wrong with me? I demand food, woman! Must I repeat myself?"

She screeched with frustration causing Vegeta to cover his ears instantly to drown out the noise. This endless battle with him was growing more and more frustrating every time they clashed heads. It was infuriating. She liked Christian and now she was sure the man would consider putting in his notice. Once his hands lowered and Vegeta felt safe, he snarled at her, but remained silent.

" I will order pizza," She barked, " Just.. go upstairs and be patient for once in your life! I will prepay it so all you have to do is open the damn door!"

He didn't even give her a chance to respond before she reentered and slammed the door harshly behind her, leaving the conversation. He almost contemplated going after her but stayed his hand. He was hungry and she was going to fulfill that need. Mission accomplished. His eye twitched, however, when his Saiyan ears picked up her voice as he turned to head back upstairs to the living area.

"I'd love to! " Her voice echoed softly past the door to him, " I haven't been on a date in forever!"

His teeth gnashed. He did not know what this "date" was but his insides churned. She used to go on these "dates" with the weakling and it always ended with her wreaking of him. The thought twisted his innards to the point of infuriation. He turned toward the door in rage but stopped himself.

_Who gives a fuck!_

He stomped off, stomach growling.

* * *

" Hello Anthony, " Bulma spoke into her cell, " Yes, I need three dozen pizzas, the usual. Put it on our tab. Uh-huh, you got it. Don't worry, put a big tip on there for him."

Christian observed her while she spoke, obviously making the call for her strange guest. He knew very little of Vegeta, besides the fact that he was apparently a dignitary, but it seemed that the warning about his brashness and short tempers were indeed true. The man was built like a body builder which did little to ease his leeriness of him. The man could obviously crumble him to dust. He observed the blue haired beauty from where he stood, admiring her soft mannerisms.

"Does he always speak to you that way?" His curiosity could not be ignored, " Hard to believe the man is royalty with a mouth like that."

He was rewarded with the soft and adorable chime of her laughter, " Oh, I know. Yup, he's always that.. friendly. It's a long story, but you learn to deal with it. As harsh as that caveman appears, there is  _some_  honor in there somewhere. "

The soft smile she offered ignited him, (though he was incorrect in thinking it was for him) fueling him with more bravery. The woman was stunning and intelligent to boot, and he had the honor of working for her. How any man could ignore such qualities was beyond him. They went about their tasks for only a few more minutes before he burst out.

"Would you like to go to dinner?"

Bulma and Christian both gazed at each other surprised at the question that lingered between them. The heiress hesitated a moment, unsure of what to say at first. Such relationships or even consideration of one between employees was normally frowned upon in the company. However, it had been quite some time since she had even had a man look at her the way he was obviously looking at her.

"I'd love to! " Her voice spoke with bravado, as though trying to convince herself that she needed this, " I haven't been on a date in forever!"

Christian's smile only confirmed that this was _definitely_  the best day ever.

* * *

"Woman, open up!" Vegeta barked, knocking harshly on her bed room door, obviously unable to process patience. He could hear her rustling around in there with no response and it infuriated him.

"Open this dam door or I'll rip it off its hinges! " He hissed threateningly.

" Oh for fucks sakes, hold on!" Her voice responded, leaving him to stand in the hallway waiting for her.

Another minute and he was going to level the entire compound. He rose his fist to pound on the door again but halted when it swung open with fury, the blue haired woman matching his glare instantaneously. He was trying to focus on her angered responses, but he was distracted by her sudden change in attire. She was wearing a snug tube top dress that hugged her curves, defining the ample weight of her breasts and the fullness of her behind. He was trying to hold her gaze but his traitorous body allowed his sight to drop to look her over appreciatively before returning to match the ocean depths of her anger.

" Hello?!" She barked with annoyance, thankfully missing his once over a few seconds ago, hands splayed on both hips, " I have things to do – so just spit it the fuck out already!"

"What the fuck are you wearing?" He fought the question, but it came out anyway, bubbling up his throat without his permission.

Bulma suddenly looked at him shocked then smirked, slowly moving her arms to cross in front of her, doing nothing but perking her breasts out further. She was doing it purposely. The motion didn't go unnoticed, and Vegeta fought the blush that he knew was starting to rise upon his cheeks. She suddenly took a step forward into his personal space, causing his spine to go rigid. Her smirk deepened as she uncrossed her arms and suddenly pressed her body to him fully, hands resting upon the stone chest she knew resided beneath his tank top. Her large breasts were so snuggled against him, increasing her noticeable cleavage so much that Vegeta averted his gaze, fighting any reaction his body might have to her suddenly proximity.

"Why?" She answered his earlier question, her voice soft and a breaths away from his chin, " You like what you see?"

The promiscuous way she asked such questions made his stomach churn with desire, but he squashed it down forcefully. His hands reached out and grabbed each of her forearms to extract her from his body, turning his head back to meet her gaze. Whatever moment they might have just had, had vanished. His cold glare greeted her and took her by surprise, but she kept the smirk. She had made him uncomfortable, but it was clear that he found her attractive, regardless of whatever denial he continued to reflect on the outside.

"You look like a whore, " He said in response, eliciting a gasp from Bulma and an attempt to raise her hand to slap him, but he gently knocked it away, " A cheap one at that."

"You asshole!"

It was Vegeta's turn to smirk, having easily gotten under her skin, "The bots are all broken, I require new ones for tomorrow."

Her brow dropped, " What?! I JUST replaced them last week!"

"They are inferior, " He spoke matter of factly, " They did not fulfill their purpose. Make them better."

He dropped his hold on her then and abruptly turned his back to her, set on heading back to his own living quarters. He hadn't gotten far before his voice rang out again.

"I expect them by morning," He added.

"UGH!" Her frustrated exploded from behind him, " I have a date tonight! I don't have time for this shit!"

" I don't give a fuck, " He punctuated, ending the conversation with a slam of his door behind him.

He knew her pride would not allow her to ignore his request. She was just as bad as he when it came to this little tit for tat between them. They would be done by tomorrow as he stated. A frustrated screech of " I HATE YOU!" made it to his ears once the door separated them.

He genuinely laughed for the first time in decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	4. Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its about to get saucy, but only for a bit. ;)

 

She slams the last machinery in the series down onto her lab desk far harder than she should have, hands covered in grease and her cheeks speckled with the evidence of the time she spent on the demands of the stubborn prince. She swiped her arm upwards toward her brow, only further streaking her face. The tight form fitting dress was still on, having gotten obviously carried away, her initial date forgotten. Her eyes suddenly lit up, a deep smirk adorning her face at her completion of the bot. It was, dare she say, _perfect_. She suddenly thrust both her arms downward in a bent position, letting out a loud squeal in excitement and triumph. _Finally!_ She suddenly lifted her eyes upward to the clock to only shock herself with the time.

_4:35 am._  
  
So much for her date with Christian. If anything, she knew he probably considered himself stood up. Shoulders drooping at such a realization, she sighed, taking a second to look at her less than attractive state of dress. She closed her eyes momentarily, trying to soothe her annoyance and anger at the entire situation. Her houseguest was truly starting to meddle into her attempts at some sort of normality in her life. She knew it was ignorant to assume she could have anything of the sort, but it still didn’t deter her from selfishly wishing to obtain it. With a flick of some rust off her right forearm, she gathered two bots from the pile to head up to confront the ignorant idiot that demanded such a task. She knew he was due to wake up any moment, knowing he always woke around 5 am to start his routine for the day. Determined look on her face, she _could not_ wait to rub the accomplishment in his cocky face.

* * *

 

He felt her before she knocked, making him pause mid tug of his right glove, gaze raising to look at the door quizzically. She was never up this early. Granted, he had demanded a task of her, but he certainly didn’t expect her to come before he was even ready to storm into her lab demanding them. Approaching his door, he pulled it open with such force the movement suddenly sucked her forward, nearly crossing the doorframe upon his appearance.

“ What is it woman?!” His stern voice lost a bit of gusto as he observed her appearance.

She was still wearing her dress from the night before, making him assume she had went about the task immediately after their last confrontation. She was covered in grease, her hair tosseled and eyes blurry and tired but seemingly hard and determined. He was breathless by the way she appeared, like a woman having come from battle. He was taken back by how incredibly attractive she looked to him in that moment. It seemed he was not too good for such primal instincts after all. She suddenly shoved two objects into his chest, his hands coming down automatically to grasp them, eyes dropping to observe them. He found himself analyzing them with a rare curiosity that seemed to only surface around her. The woman in front of him crossed her arms arrogantly as he examined them.

“Twenty four of them,” She started, “These absorb your own energy attacks, analyzes the level of which you’re inputting and therefore determines a rather stronger output. They move _faster_ and adjust based on your own movements.”

Her voice was so clipped and arrogant that it amused him. He raised his eyebrows impressed that such a task was completed in such a quick timeframe. It was obvious that the woman was capable of more than she had been leading on this entire time. Without the weakling’s distraction, it was obvious she could create him anything he could possibly need, whenever he needed it. The possibilities were endless to him and he could not hide how seemingly greedy he was.

“Adequate.”  

Bulma snorted in response, nose turned upward, “Don’t be so stingy. They’re nearly perfect. I _am_ a genius, ya know.”

His gaze lifted to her, smirking at how similar her arrogance and over confidence was compared to his own. He weighed heavily on her appearance, dress still snug in all the right places, though covered in filth from tearing apart destroyed machinery in creation of these pieces. She looked disgusting, yet strangely alluring. Her arms crossed propped her ample chest out to him as they had done the night before, distracting him easily. Something about this woman _called_ to him. He found himself placing the bots off to the side of the door on his dresser with brute purpose. His arms braced the door suddenly as he leaned into her personal space as she had done to him the night before. So seemingly uncharacteristic of him but at this point he didn’t give a fuck. Her scent drew him to her like a moth to a flame and for some reason the smell of her arduous work coupled with her obvious willingness to please him only enhanced her attractiveness in this moment.

What was it about this _blasted_ woman that made him so easily lose control?

His gaze, usually cold and harsh, suddenly went heated. The way he observed her set her slightly at unease, making her arms uncross to look at him in confusion. She parted her lips to speak but choked slightly when he suddenly was _there_ , leaning into her similarly to what she knew she had done last night. His nose met the side of her neck, causing her to jolt suddenly. So intimate and strange for a man that she knew valued every ounce of personal space owned by him.

_Is he smelling me?_ Her thoughts raced in utter confusion and lust.

The feel of the warmth of his breath caused immediate goosebumps on her flesh. He blazed a hot trail that sent her body temperature skyrocketing. She was unsure how to feel within that moment. It was so fast, so so.. _hot_. _When did it get so warm in the hallway? What the hell was he doing?_ His nose suddenly slid a slow agonizing path along the curve of her neck upward toward her jaw. His arms, due to his speed, were now suddenly gripping her waist. She gasped at the touch, still in shock that these arms, these _hands_ clutching her were _Vegeta’s._ Her own gaze dropped to her hands, which were shaking and resting upon the front of his armor. _When did that happen? What the hell is going on?_

A growl that sounded like a low purr of some sort came bubbling from his chest, startling her to look at him directly. The intensity of his gaze was suffocating and immediately set her stomach into knots. Her breath quickened, chest heaving slightly at how suddenly aroused she felt – and he had barely touched her! This type of exhilaration had never been felt the entire time she had been with Yamcha. He looked at her as though she was some sort of delectable dessert he wanted to devour. The primal look in his eyes only made her slick with desire, flustering her insides with hot butterflies. Embarrassment set in immediately, her cheeks developing a rosy blush at her sudden spike in arousal. Since when did she find _him_ so attractive? When had this sudden transition in their... whatever the fuck this was… happen? Why did his touch feel _so_ right? This man had murdered her ex-boyfriend for goodness sakes… and yet the way he was looking at her now made her heart sing, her insides hot and her legs spread.

He could smell it, and it was driving him mad. Her arousal was strengthening, making him smug with his effect on the woman, but it was clouding his judgement. _You shouldn’t be doing this_. That small voice was still there but being easily defeated by his carnal needs. His mind was struggling and the vapor that was hovering over his brain only thickened as she ran her pink tongue over her lips. Cherry red lips that looked soft, appetizing and something he wanted to devour. His internal struggle left them in this intimate position in front of his doorway, hovering just above the line that they both knew they shouldn’t cross. He merely stared at her lips, however, watching as her teeth suddenly came down to bite into the bottom of it, erupting action. Any remaining thoughts he had were gone.

She didn’t have time to gasp. Her hands were suddenly in his hair, his lips slanted against her in a flurry of hunger. He was already prying them open with his tongue, determined to taste every single last ridge of her soft pink lips then every corner of the inside of her soft mouth, erupting a soft moan from her throat. _It was intense_. Bulma had never experienced such a spark before, her hands tugging slightly at the nap of his flame swept hair while his hands tightened around her waist puling her to him and confirming what effect _she_ had on _him_. He had her against the wall suddenly, her legs coming upward to square his hips welcomingly, excitement building upward. His desire only thickened, and he wasted no time thrusting the evidence into the softness of the apex of her thighs.

_Oh_! She thought to herself, _oh god!_

She _wanted_ him. She _really_ wanted him and the reaffirmation that he did too was enough to send her reeling. His mouth was insistent along the curve of her slender neck while his left gloved hand finally grasped the roundness of her breast over her dress. This was really going to happen and though she felt a pang of fear, the overwhelming want and desire outmatched any doubt she could have possibly had in this moment.

“Oh my!”

The recognizable voice pierced through both of their haze like a knife, causing the pair to throw themselves away from each other, faces red with mortification. Her mother, having come through the hallway to seemingly drop off Bulma’s clothes (as was made evident by the laundry basket in her arms), stood at the top of the stairs with a happy smile. She looked so giddy it disgusted them both. Vegeta promptly turned to the side to hide the embarrassment of his arousal, seemingly cursing to himself quietly in a language Bulma could not understand. Whatever desire had been running through his veins went suddenly dead cold.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt my darlings!” The blonde chirped which only enraged the embarrassed Saiyan, her form moving past them both rather easily on her blue heels, laundry balanced in front of her as she continued down the hallway as though nothing had happened.

“Oh, what beautiful babies they will make!”

They could both hear her mumble such comments to herself, echoing softly within the emptiness of the hallway. They refused to hold each other’s gaze. Vegeta’s fists clenched in fury. The blue haired demon had _bewitched_ him. He could still taste her on his lips and smell her faintly on himself, causing him to snarl into the quiet of the hallway, startling her. He took a minute then stood straighter, firmer with determination. He didn’t have time for this _bullshit_. He suddenly held her gaze, once again startling her. The coldness that greeted her this time gave her goosebumps of a completely different kind.

 “That _will not_ happen again.” He barked with anger, regret and embarrassment, “I have to train. Nothing will stand in my way of ascension.”

Bulma was shocked briefly by the indirect way he had just blamed her, but it immediately exploded into anger, “What! You kissed me!”  
  
“Tch,” He ground his teeth, “A moment of insanity.”

She huffed in annoyance, “You are a fucking coward.”

Bold words, even for her and she knew she was pushing the envelope by the glower he had given her in return. His fists tightened but he forcefully told himself to ignore her, turning immediately to retrieve the two bots from his room with haste. He held her gaze for only a moment before almost disappearing before her eyes, moving out of the hallway with a purposeful speed. Bulma crossed her arms in annoyance, her own desire dissipating with a twinge of disappointment. Her heart was still beating rapidly, unable to deny the moment that had just occurred... what they had almost done.

She wanted _more_.

It was undeniable. She had never experienced such... raw passion from Vegeta before. Hell, the man showed little to no emotion save for his love of fighting, food and barking at her but whatever heat that she had felt from his fingertips and lips... the emotion existed. He denied its implications, but it was there. The heat of their arguments only seemingly fueled this hidden spark between them and it almost made her laugh out loud by how ignorant she had been of it until this moment. No wonder she and Yamcha’s relationship had teetered downward since Vegeta’s stay upon this planet. She had probably been in a stubborn denial herself considering how much she seemed to really cater to him, disguised in the excuse of his rage and empty threats of her death or the need for his power. This attraction had already been placed there since nearly the beginning. She had probably wanted him all along.

...and Bulma Briefs _always_ gets what she wants.

She turned to head to her room to clean up and call Christian, to end whatever attraction he thought she contained. The only sights she had now, were on the monkey prince.

* * *

 

“RAHHHH!”  
  
His fist came down in a bout of pure anger to hit the floor of the simulator, his mind constantly haunted by the soft porcelain skin of the heiress and the tousle of her light colored curls. She had wanted  _him_ and had clearly confirmed it by the arch of her lithe form and the eager way she had spread her legs for him. The entire day he had been distracted, unable to focus for more than a stretch of ten minutes, his thoughts constantly wondering back to what had transpired that morning.  It was infecting him like a disease and it angered him. He stood and crossed his arms, gravity still blaring down on his form as he, yet again, thought back to the warmth of her skin, and the scent of her arousal that even now made his blood boil instantly.

“Tch,” He echoed into the room as he suddenly spit onto the floor, an attempt to brush the memory off.

He didn’t have time for such ridiculous affairs. He had less than three years to reach legendary, and such a primal distraction would do nothing but force such a goal out of his grasp. The woman would get over it, and she would find some other idiot to focus her attention upon. Such a thought suddenly made his stomach drop, however, and he snarled in disgust at himself. _What the fuck was that? Jealousy?_  
  
She was not _that_ attractive.

He could feel the lie behind such a statement but squashed it down with fury. He approached the control panel with purpose and dialed up the gravity, determined to force any further thoughts of the heiress from his mind. When it engaged, and the force of a higher gravity hit his bones, he relished the feeling, blissfully clearing his mind of anything and everything blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed this tease. Be prepared for some mayhem in the next few chapters.


	5. Swap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get really interesting from here.

 

“Morning sweetie!”   
  
Her mother’s voice greeted her upon her entrance into the kitchen, the smell of breakfast already piercing through her nostrils, indicating she’d been going at it for hours already. As expected, the prince was no where to be found. Bulma paused, frowning slightly at the empty chair that he preferred, staring it down as though she contained a grudge with it. This childish game that he was playing was grating on her nerves. The man truly knew how to get around any type of confrontation with her, making her suddenly realize how frighteningly good he was at making himself scarce. If he didn’t want to talk, he was damn good at making sure they never had the opportunity to do so.  
  
“Where’s Vegeta?” She asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Just missed him, dear, “ her mother tittered, “ He’s out already training. Such a dedicated boy!”

Bulma snorted in response, arms crossed automatically in annoyance at the confirmation, her gaze flitting to the back window to observe that the machine was indeed on and already humming. He was probably wallowing in there, berating himself for being so pathetic and momentarily weak enough to be attracted to a lowly human. The man’s pride was certainly iron clad, his tunnel vision focused solely on this self-made legendary prophecy and his twisted obsession with destroying her best friend. Considering his planet was extinct and every female of his race with it, you’d think the man would be a bit more open to getting his rocks off. She huffed suddenly and marched out of the kitchen, eyes set on the gravity simulator. He didn’t want talk? Fine - then she would be sure not to let him while she was chewing him out. It had been a week since their encounter and she wanted answers, she wanted... _something_.

* * *

 

Mid-punch, Vegeta suddenly tensed, eyes flitting to the closed doors of the simulator, sensing the woman’s presence. Her miniscule ki was hard to ignore as it pulsed with what he recognized as anger, each step bringing her closer to his short-lived solace. Cursing to himself, he lowered to the ground from his position and braced himself for whatever was to come. Knowing her, there was no avoiding her forever as he had intended, the woman’s control over his environment a farther reach than he’d like. This _was_ the woman’s creation after all, and she would gain entry, whether he chose to let her in or not. There was no escape and the implication alone drove him crazy with fury. He was a warrior that had spent his lifetime feeling trapped and certainly did not appreciate the concept.

As expected, he could feel the simulator suddenly powering down without his permission, prepping it for her appearance. He frowned, arms crossing as it hummed to a stop and the release for the door beeped and slid open, signaling her arrival. He parted his lips to speak but was startled into silence as she came in raging, already prepped with a speech.

“No, shut the fuck up, “ She barked coming in thrusting her right pointer finger forward toward him,  “What the heck is your problem?!”

She was daring him, stepping right into his personal space to yell, which caused him to take a step backward unconsciously. She was wild with emotion on her features, increasingly annoying him with every open and close of her mouth. These creatures were just so damn _emotional_ , and he knew that what had happened would have eventually dragged him into an ocean of unescapable misery. He hated this crap. This was preciously _why_ he avoided all females like the plague.  From the time he had understood what they could provide and what such consequences could come with them, he had spent a larger part of his matured age burying his carnal needs. Emotional attachment had proved to be nothing but a weakness to him, and he would be damned if he succumbed to this infuriating woman now, giving her any type of fuel to further this obvious obsession with him. He snarled in response to her disrespectful invasion of the one space in this place that gave him the temporary clarity he needed and took a step forward to take her screeching head on.

“You’ve been avoiding me! “ Bulma’s rant continued, her face scrunched in her own fury and annoyance, pointer finger now jabbing his chest, “You should consider any attention I give you a compliment! Any man would be falling at themselves to get even a peck on the cheek from me!”  
  
It figured her speech was a selfishly condescending tirade about her own looks and attraction of the opposite sex. It was enough to almost make him laugh. This angry outburst did nothing but show her obvious buried hurt at the open rejection that he had gave her when he had run from the situation like a startled deer. He could not blame her, he _had_ gotten carried away (obviously giving this woman some sort of assumption of possible companionship), but if he had been in his right mind, it wouldn’t have happened. There was just something about her presence that made him question his restraint. He couldn’t deny his wall had fallen temporarily when they had last spoke, but he was never going to openly admit it, and if he could help it, it wouldn’t ever happen again.

“Instead you run like a chicken, “ She wasn’t through, even though he had tuned her out mostly, “You are nothing but a coward, Vegeta! Not even man enough to admit I got a rise out of you.”

His eyebrow, lowered in annoyance already, twitched with impatience. He suddenly grasped the wrist of the finger that wouldn’t stop insistently prodding his armor. His grip tightened slightly, though not enough to hurt her (she did need her hands to fix things for him after all), but strong enough to get her attention and cease her rant. He looked at her menacingly, having had enough of her calling him a coward. It was almost like she didn’t know the definition of the word, throwing it out like some spoiled little brat who hadn’t gotten what she wanted. He snarled with displeasure at her sudden startled expression.

“You’re forgetting who you’re dealing with, _woman_.“ His voice deepened, his hand releasing her wrist to suddenly circle her slender throat in one fluid movement, “ I could kill you right now and end this useless prattle.”

His hand flexed to show further his point, eliciting a gasp from her throat in what he easily recognized as fear. _Ah_ , the scent of it almost exhilarated him. He moved her quickly, her back meeting the side of the simulator with a crack, though not hard enough to necessarily cause her discomfort. It was frightening and a far cry from the more intimate position the last time they had stood this close together, but he needed to make a point. He was not going to be constantly belittled for removing himself from a situation that the knew would only result in nothing further but a headache.

“You may be a woman with seemingly satisfactory appearance, “ He told her with a calculating and equally condescending manner, “ but do not think for one second that you were anything more than a possible means to satisfy a sexual need.”  
  
Her head lowered slightly at such words left his mouth, her hands coming up to grasp the arm that held her in place. She was immediately regretting this confrontation and desperately wanted out of here. It had gone too far. This wasn’t banter, this was beratement. She tugged helplessly on his arm wanting him to let her go. Vegeta ignored it, not done with her just yet.

“ If you are looking for some sort of companionship you are wasting your time, “ He barked in her face, “You are a weak, emotionally unstable creature that just so happens to have everything that I need to ascend and you _will_ help me accomplish my goal or I will destroy this planet and everything that you enjoy on it.”

Her arms shook with the exertion she was applying in the struggle to let her go, but the prince’s grip was unrelenting. It was not painful, but it was unwavering, not allowing her to move from the wall of the simulator. Meant to intimidate, not injure, as it was obvious he still needed her. Like.. some sort of slave. It angered her but saddened her. Whatever feelings she had developed for him were making themselves incredibly more apparent the more his words stung her. She cared what he thought of her, and right now, she was nothing more than a servant. What he had felt days ago was obviously nothing short of a mistake in his mind.

“ You hear me woman?” He growled threateningly, “ You are _nothing_ to me. Is that _clear_?”

“ _Crystal_ , “ She suddenly barked back, tears suddenly welling in her eyes, threatening to slide down the slopes of her reddening cheeks. She was a fool to think this man.. no this _killer_ , had any type of emotional capacity. Her face was still looking off to the side not willing to humiliate herself any further. She had taken a risk coming in here, and it had backfired. She was a strong woman, and she certainly didn’t need Vegeta to confirm that, but she had hoped for... _something_. She was now unsure what the hell she had ever really wanted from him - his personality was such a far cry from any other man she had ever wanted or been with in her entire life. There was no simple conversation or discussion of their touch with intimacy, nor her yelling him into submission of whatever feelings she had obviously fabricated in her mind. He was not interested (of nothing more than just quick satisfaction) and for some reason that devasted her more than her loss of Yamcha. His grip loosened, her lungs suddenly releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding, stifling a sob.

Vegeta startled at the sound, not expecting to hear such a noise from his daily adversary and stared at her slightly confused. Bulma immediately ran a hand over her face while straightening her back and took hurried steps toward the exit, never meeting his gaze. There was nothing left to say, and she wanted out of the space as quickly as possible. He left her go, his eyebrows creased slightly, his chest suddenly feeling far more weight on it than he was expecting. Instead of feeling relieved, he felt unsettled and even... _regret_.

* * *

 

She was drunk.

She didn’t care how well everyone else noticed either. She was at the local club in the capital, doing shots and just trying to have an enjoyable time by dancing on table tops and grinding against the man she had forced to take her out. It was fun, or at least, that is what she told herself to get through whatever the hell emotional implosion she was experiencing. It’d been a long time since she’d gone out just for herself, having been subjected to endless repairs and desk work for the egotistical asshole that lived with her or her father’s suffocating company that was destined to be hers. It was like she had suddenly stopped caring – or at least had for the last several weeks.

So as this man had her pinned against the side of Capsule Corp while his hand slid up the slit of her new cocktail dress, making a pathway to her most precious spot, she told herself she needed this. Even if it was a mistake. For once, she wanted to feel normal. She didn’t want to be the heiress of the planet’s most advanced corporation, or the host of earth’s former destructor. She wanted to be Bulma and enjoy this.. _whatever this was_..  with the man that was now lowering to his knees to pleasure her intimately. When his mouth met her center, her head clunked against the side of the building, mouth parting to let out what she thought was a soft _oh!_ It perhaps echoed a bit too much outside the quiet estate, but she found herself not caring.

“Oh fuck,” her mouth parted to moan, words slightly slurring, “ Oh, yes, right there!”

The man chuckled, but obliged her, causing her to arch against the rough stone surface of her home. Her hands gripped the blonde tendrils of her lover’s hair, not caring how seemingly shameless she was being. It had been months since the last time she had enjoyed such pleasurable moments and she wasn’t going to waste it. She was going to selfishly chase her climax, even if she knew she was going to regret this in the morning (or every time it happened). It wasn’t long before her peak crashed into her, causing her to belt out a louder shriek than intended into the silence of the night. Her body pulsed with satisfaction as the last waves of her orgasm left her, leaving her panting and suddenly empty. Her lover came upward to kiss her forcefully and she returned it mechanically, knowing he was probably too drunk himself to notice.  
  
As much as she had desperately wanted it, she felt so suddenly disappointed in this intimate affair. Her mind was clouded - the alcohol keeping her from really focusing on anything but the sensations of his hands on her breasts, and his tongue sliding along her throat. So as quickly as the doubt and disappointment had surfaced, it had dissipated, drowning her in an ocean of lust. The only thing that crossed her mind as she felt his hands raise her skirt and then her legs to enter her in one firm thrust, was the hazy fact that she realized the simulator was suddenly off hours earlier than normal. In the darkness of the night, as the man eagerly chased his own satisfaction, she could almost… _almost_ pretend he was someone else.

* * *

 

He was unnecessarily angry.

He was in his room forced to hear and feel the kis of the drunken coupling of the woman and that pathetic man from her work. He was lying on his bed, arms behind his bed frowning at the ceiling unable to concentrate on anything but the woman’s ki as it fluctuated. The two were shameless, and he could hear the woman’s soft shrieks as they wafted up to his balcony door, the thin glass doing little to muffle the sound. His teeth were clenched, and his body was tense, angry at the entire occurrence even though he knew it was foolish to be. He had clearly made his intentions known as well as the lack of interest in her (besides the obvious sexual gratification she could provide) and yet he had abandoned his training in the middle of their coupling to retreat like a wounded animal. It _sickened_ him.

This was _pathetic_. Her affair with her assistant had been steady for the past three weeks and yet he still could not bring himself to accept the fact without a blistering anger in his gut. He shouldn’t care, and yet here he was, giving way more fucks than he should be. He couldn’t stop the inclination to be so suddenly possessive of something that obviously wasn’t his. He had never felt this type of stinging regret, selfishness and greed when she had been coupled with scarface. Perhaps it was just the obvious indirect rejection she had given him in return when he had made it known if anything would happen between them would be purely for his own selfish sexual satisfaction that truly stung him. She had wanted more than what he clearly was ever going to give her, and now he was left to be tortured in her pursuit of the companionship he obviously couldn’t provide. He should be relieved and yet all he felt was a tinge of jealousy that he was far too embarrassed to even admit to himself.  
  
And even worse, his body was _responding_ to her voice – her moans and gasps a melody that his hormones clearly enjoyed. He removed his arms to clench his fists, thoroughly disgusted with himself. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He wanted this woman. He selfishly wanted to be the man that made her shriek (and far louder because he was obviously more of a man than this idiot) and _the only_ man to ever do so. After their last confrontation, he knew he had likely destroyed whatever amicable relation they contained, and it would not be an easy reconciliation. He supposed he truly should apologize for his retaliation during their last confrontation, but he knew he was far too prideful for that. Perhaps an attempt would satisfy her enough to get her into his bed. Maybe then he could think straight. He brought his right pointer and thumb immediately to his brow, officially feeling as though he had lost all remaining sanity. 

Was he really thinking of doing this? The dark Prince _never_ chased anyone, let alone a feeble woman fuller of herself than him. But he could not deny it. Her intellect, her slender body that was far softer than he had imagined.. combined with the memories of her eagerness to take their banter to a physical playground  - it all made him want to snatch her from the pathetic earth man right now. She had lived through the example of his destructive and menacing ways on namek and had still wanted him. He lifted himself to a sitting position when he suddenly heard her bedroom door click shut in the hallway, the ki of her assistant gone from the compound. She was alone, and probably still intoxicated and probably more bitter than usual. Tonight, would not be a good night to reconcile, but he would do it - and soon. He would make her his.

So three days later, when he finished his training for the evening and was pleasantly surprised to feel her ki in her bedroom without the presence of the insignificant male, he approached her door. He hesitated, his mind and body still battling furiously over what the hell he was about to do, but still managed a knock before he did something stupid like retreat. He would not act a fool and linger outside this door like some pubescent teen. She opened it, his eyes lingering on her soft tresses before meeting her eyes, her surprise easily noted on her features. She had clearly not expected it to be him and only held his gaze a moment before her blue hues dropped as though they had found something interesting on the floor.

“Oh, “ Her voice was guarded, “ Whats up Vegeta? Did you need some repairs again?”

He cleared his throat a bit, “ Its.. in working order at this time.”

Her brows drew in confusion, “ Oh?”

He gritted his teeth but then forced himself to speak ,” I.. Look wo- Bulma..”

It was clear he was struggling a bit and this caused Bulma to finally hold his gaze, surprised by the use of her name. This was but one of two times he had ever dared to show her the necessary respect to call her by her name, which clearly indicated he wanted to talk. Vegeta _never_ wanted to talk, she at least knew him that well enough. Her hand gripped the doorway to stare at him quizzically as he clearly was trying to find a way to speak that didn’t fully humiliate himself, his cheeks slightly pink.

“The last time we had spoke, “ He finally continued, clearly uncomfortable, “ I.. admit that I had perhaps taken it too far. ”

She raised an eyebrow at him still slightly confused. He noticed her suspicion and confusion and continued before she could counter, “You are not .. necessarily weak. Your intelligence far outweighs anyone on this pathetic planet.”

She looked at him slightly surprised but allowed her features to soften. An apology – or at least the closest thing to one she would ever get from him. They had barely crossed paths these last few weeks, and it appeared he had missed their banter as much as she had. She couldn't be certain, however, as he still remained a complete enigma to her. She had come to accept that this man was clearly not interested in settling down like her alien best friend. Her heart finally accepted that his pathway in life was drastically different. There was no comparison, she knew. Vegeta was just _Vegeta_. She also acknowledged however, that she did not want to be treated as a play thing either, forcing herself to pursue this attraction Christian clearly held for her, hoping it would soon blossom into something more on her end in the process. It was fruitless. The last four weeks had proven that she was as disinterested as she was when she had begun, but she admitted she was lonely, and he filled the void that she knew she had to at least attempt to fill. 

“Well.. thank you Vegeta, “ She offered him a smile that he found he missed these past few weeks, “ I know you probably sacrificed a great deal of pride to openly admit that.”  
  
She had slowly opened the door a bit wider during their conversation, allowing Vegeta to appreciate the way she was currently dressed for bed. Noticing that what he had said pleased her, he wasted no time in slowly taking a step forward into her as though taking her approval as open invitation. The prince would soon find out that he was grossly mistaken.

“ Hmm, “ His left hand grasped some of the wild curls that framed her face, “ Is your bed appropriate for this evening?”

“What?” She looked at him confused again, clearly unnerved by the way he was gazing heatedly at her.

“ For reconciliation, “ His tone dropped deep and Bulma found her knees suddenly weak, “ Your bed is far more spacious for the amount of satisfaction I have in mind.”

Bulma’s spine went rigid as her face blushed, “ What?!”

 Her disastrous body betrayed her as she felt her center throb at his honeyed tone. The man’s demeanor was incredibly intimating while radiating sex, and he had barely spoken. She found herself cursing the emotions that remained for him. This was wrong! She was now a committed woman and this was inappropriate.

“ I want to fuck you, woman, “ He stated matter of factly. The man never said anything he didn't mean. 

“What?!” She repeated for a third time, louder and more panicked, her body temperature skyrocketing, “ I am not a god damn prostitute!”

His smirk only caused her heart to pound, “ Your scent betrays you, woman.”

Her teeth gritted at his tone, mad at herself for forgetting he probably could easily smell her desire. There was no hiding anything from this man, and it was only infuriating her more. No. She was not going to do this. He was smirking at her arrogantly, as though knowing she would give in to the emotions that were threatening to burst from her chest. She wanted him, and he could clearly smell it, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of whatever control he thought he had over her. This was _not_ how Bulma Briefs worked. She wasn’t going to give any man, even one that could easily over power her, the inclination that she could easily be brought into their bed. He may have apologized in his own way, but that did little to curb the clear line of difference between their intentions. Whatever game he thought he was playing, she would not be participating. 

She didn't honor him with anything more than the slam of her bedroom door in his face.

_As if._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happened in this chapter, but splitting it didn't seem appropriate. Hope you guys like it. :]


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